From the journal… In the Public Gardens on a bench by the dahlias. Lunch is wrapped in a cloth napkin in my bag, tucked in among crosswords, a novel, and assorted writing implements. This journal was in there, but is now flopped open on my thigh. Somewhere I am remembering that the column width of…
Tag: contemplation
The There and The Then and the What Will Be… a Poem
The There and the Then and the What Will Be There were things that I could have donebefore leaving:The sink which hadn’t seemedall that bad; the community of goodsgathered in the fridgewho since my goingand returning once again,have overstayed their welcome;desktop mountain rangeswith would-be landslidesarranged to topplewith the slightest addition.However, standing as I amin a…
Who Do you Say…
I have answered this question many times in my life…Who do you say that I am? And while there are a few elements in common over the years, I am equally grateful to know that there is no limit…that there remains the impossibility of containing; that more remains than I can possibly hope for or…
Progressive Events
While I have never participated in such a thing, I understand the idea of progressive meals among a group of friends…one house for appetizers, one for the main meal, one for dessert, another for coffee, etc. It’s cumulative in many ways… The meal, for sure, and also the experiences, the number of people, the laughter,…
Under the Influence of Emily
Under the Influence of Emily Lost to the blue of distance,I consider the spacemy words will rest—on the page before someone,known or not,or within the commons sharedbetween you, perhaps, and me—and recall a certain summer picnicby a riot of wildflowers lavishly decoratedwith a living garland of bumblebees. Kimberly M. King
Down and Within
After the Wednesday evening contemplative service at Saint Andrew’s this week… Instead of going up to the balcony, today I went down. I started on the chair but it didn’t feel right. Too…what? Perch-y. To ‘on’ and not ‘within’ the space of the sanctuary. It was like I needed to touch down. To ground myself…
Wednesday Peace
Ms. Tippett: In 2006, I sat across from [Elie Wiesel] in a hotel room that my producers had turned into a makeshift studio and I asked him to tell me what happened after he lost his faith forever, as he wrote, at Auschwitz. He answered: “What happened afterwards is in the book. I went on praying.” Ms….
Orion, Cassiopeia, Polaris
I went to the midweek contemplative service at Saint Andrew’s United Church of Canada last night. One of the many reasons I love going to this is the quiet opening I can feel inside of me…the combination of a grounding and a freeing that has me pick up a pen and paper with a certain…
Sighs Too Deep: A Poem
Of late I have been going to a contemplative prayer on Wednesday evenings and finding it to be profoundly nourishing. Sometimes I come home and write out of the fullness I feel because it’s more than I can hold inside…I find that poetry is a good container for what spills over. Too Deep Too deep,…
Senses of Contemplation (a poem)
Senses of Contemplation (Wednesdays at Saint Andrew’s)Warm dust and candle;stained glass archways into the story; smooth-worn wooden spirals bearing your light;the comfort-music of stillness;the full-bodied enticing awareness of limitless, of home, of Still Morethat was you and is you now and will be so onward and deeper intothe unknown Mystery of what is,as yet, beyond the embraceof our imagination….
Consider the Lilies 